


Enjoy The Show

by aila_anomaly



Series: Enjoy The Show [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And did i reuse the coffee shop cliche?, Camboy Keith, Cunnilingus, Dildos, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Smut, Trans Keith (Voltron), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vibrators, You're Welcome, yes i did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-06-06 23:19:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15205685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aila_anomaly/pseuds/aila_anomaly
Summary: Of course he’d develop some kind of weird equivalent to a crush for a fucking pornstar.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so I sent one of my favorite blogs an anonymous prompt for camboy Keith (with a kind of sugar daddy Lance) and kinda mentioned I was going to write something for it.
> 
> So here it is lol. 
> 
> Also, I'm fairly new to writing smut and I've never written for a trans character before so just keep that in mind. That being said, I hope you enjoy the fic.

Of course he’d develop some kind of weird equivalent to a crush for a _fucking pornstar._

Yep, classic Lance.

Mere minutes ago he’d been bored out of his mind and just looking to jack off real quick. Then, by whatever otherworldly force had deemed it necessary, Lance stumbled across a list of live streams on a random porn site and, tapping on the first one, came face to face (or screen, rather) with one of the most captivating things he’s ever seen in his twenty something years of life.

Otherwise known as Keith.

Or at least that’s what Lance assumed his name was as his username, **Camboy_Keith** , seemed pretty straightforward.

Watching Keith was like looking at a very detailed work of art. There’s so much to behold, too much to take in all at once, and just a glimpse had Lance so far gone, it was exciting and terrifying all at the same time. His mind suddenly on overdrive trying to keep up with what his body was reacting to. At the sight of Keith biting his lip and jerking his hand up and down underneath his boxers, heat blossomed in Lance’s chest and spread like a wildfire under his skin. His heart had sped up until felt like it was going to burst right out of his rib cage. ‘ _Like love at first sight_ ’ a tiny voice from the far corners of his mind had whispered.

Okay, maybe he was overexaggerating.

But not really.

It wouldn’t be the first time he let his emotions get the best of him, forcing rational thinking from his mind in favor of allowing his heart to catch feelings for whoever the fuck it wanted to. Though maybe his sudden desire was just because he was horny, hormones on overdrive and dick ready for some action. Or maybe it was because of the way Keith’s raven black hair messily framed his face and curled ever so slightly at the ends, falling just above the pale skin of his shoulders which peeked out from under a dark red, too big sweater. It might’ve been the blush in his cheeks and neck, or his full, flushed lips red from being worried between his teeth. It could have quite possibly been due to the small hums and throaty groans Keith let out when his hand moved a certain way, his half-lidded eyes fluttering closed in bliss every few seconds, hips jerking forward. Or . . . or it was just his dick making the rest of his body think and behave oddly.

Either way, he’d started feeling something he probably shouldn’t have, and he should have just exited the site then and there to avoid getting invested in someone he doesn’t even know. But, of course that doesn’t happen since his dick has so clearly already made up his mind for him. So Lance grabs his earbuds, plugs them into his phone and lies back against the pillows on his bed, getting comfortable for the show.

He takes a few seconds to assess the layout of the site, familiarizing himself because he already knows he’ll be coming back for more. Next to the video of Keith is a live chat window where other viewers are conversing amongst themselves or trying to catch Keith’s attention, telling him how sexy he is, how they can’t wait to watch him cum. Looking at the timestamps of the earlier chats, Lance is relieved to find the stream started only minutes ago, which means he hasn’t missed anything, this is just the beginning. Another portion of the screen gives Lance the option to send Keith a tip by buying tokens and sending them through the chat.

He doesn’t hesitate to make an account real quick and buy a fuck ton of tokens, questionable validity of the website’s ability to make transactions be dammed.

Turning his focus back to Keith, Lance grips his phone a little tighter, aware of the blood beginning to rush between his legs and the heat creeping further up his neck and face, watching in anticipation as Keith sighs and removes his hand from his black boxers. He brings the previously occupied fingers up to his mouth and licks at them languidly, earning a few impatient comments in the chat urging him to ‘get on with it already’.

Lance guesses that Keith has a full view of whatever happens in the chat, since he rolls his eyes and huffs after appearing to read the newest flood of messages. He's smiling though, as if he enjoys teasing his audience. It makes Lance smile.

He watches as Keith grins playfully at the camera and readjusts his body and a few surrounding pillows.

“Fine. I’ve made you wait long enough.”

Lance swallows around the dryness in his throat.

 _Fuck._ He even sounds beautiful, voice soft and bordering on raspy. Lance wonders what he would sound like completely wrecked and screaming his name. A thought to indulge in later.

Finally settling down, Keith hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and lifts his hips up to tug them down the swell of his ass. Then, settling back down on the mattress and rolling his bottom lip between his teeth, Keith continues pulling the garment down his thighs, stopping at his ankles and kicking it away.

Lance exhales the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. If he wasn’t fully hard before, he sure as fuck is now because _holy shit_.

Keith grabs the back of his slim thighs and spreads his legs wide open to reveal his sex, glistening with clear slick.

Lance’s mind goes blank, a few seconds of quiet go by, then the chat goes wild. People start sending tips and the cheesy, pre-recorded sound of coins colliding and various dings drown out the sound of Keith chuckling at his audience’s response. He’s probably done this hundreds of times, and it probably never gets old.

Lance still can’t bring himself to do anything other than stare in awe at his phone as Keith plants his feet on the mattress to hold his legs up and uses his now free hands to pull his baggy sweater up slightly, revealing soft outlines of muscle on the exposed part of his stomach. Lance imagines what it would feel like to run his hands over the skin – smooth, warm and flushed. He tugs his own shirt up some, not wanting to pull his earbuds out in the process of pulling his shirt off all the way and risk missing something Keith says. Instead he places his palm just above his exposed bellybutton, mimicking Keith’s movements as the dark-haired boy traces his fingertips along the lower expanse of his stomach, trailing up and under his top to massage his chest.

Keith drags his hand down to brush across the trimmed patch of dark hair covering his mound, then moves even lower, fingers forming a v and sliding down to part the folds of his sex, dipping into his wetness before sliding back up to stroke his swollen dick, humming as he does so.

Lance decides not to touch himself, not yet. He doesn’t want to finish sooner than Keith and chance not being able to get it back up again. That would suck, to put it mildly.

Remembering that he has hundreds of tokens at his disposal, Lance sends a tip of his own, finally joining in the tip giving frenzy and reveling in Keith’s smile and the ‘thanks you guys, you’re too sweet’ he aims at his viewers after all the noise quiets down.

Keith reaches over to the side and the upper half of his body disappears from the video’s frame for a few seconds. He returns holding a small, pink, egg-shaped thing in his hands and wastes no time at all reaching between his thighs to slide it into himself with a soft “Mmph”.

Lance wonders what the apparent toy does and how it works. Probably a vibrator or something, he guesses, but doesn’t see any sort of remote and can’t make out any buttons on the small antenna looking object connected to the rest of the device, protruding from Keith’s entrance.

Keith readjusts his legs again and reclines against the assortment of pillows behind him, stretching his arms up and resting them against the ones supporting his head. He looks relaxed and completely at ease as he smiles softly at the camera.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Ready for what? What’s happening?

Lance looks to the chat for some answers, only to find the others sending tips again, flooding the chat with notifications as to who tipped how much. The chimes associated with tips given ring out, filling the momentary silence in his headphones until another sound catches his attention.

“Ah-haha! _Mmm_ . . .” Keith’s hips jerk in sync with the noise from the chat almost perfectly.

Huh. That’s weird. It’s almost like the tips just controlled the . . .

No way.

Lance eagerly sends his own tip after the others have let up and sure enough, as soon as he does and a single ding rings out, Keith sucks in a breath, eyes closed and hips pushing back against the bed, proving Lance’s theory.

Oh fuck yeah. The discovery flips a switch in Lance’s mind.

And so the game begins.

He starts small, saving his fortune of tokens and waiting until others have tipped and for Keith to calm down some before sending one of his own, loving the sudden jolt of Keith’s bare hips and legs at the unexpected vibration, and the quiet groan that slips from his lips. Lance is thankful for the good quality of Keith’s camera, as he can make out certain details that only encourage his growing arousal, now straining against his underwear and sweatpants, twitching in interest at every new sound Keith produces, however small it may be.

Despite the dim lighting of his room, Lance can see the erratic rise and fall of Keith’s chest beneath his sweater, can see the way he swallows down gasps and can hear Keith panting, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before looking back at the camera. Lance takes note of the smirk on Keith’s face after he tips, like he’s caught on to Lance’s game, winking as if to say, ‘I see you’.

It sends a shiver down his spine.

He’s briefly aware of fellow viewers cheering him on, which does boosts his ego, but not as much as knowing that he’s turning Keith into a moaning, squirming, mess.

Keith’s head lolls against the pillows and he brings a hand up to his mouth, pressing his knuckles to his lips in an attempt to quiet himself as he rocks his hips back and forth on the mattress. But Lance wants to hear him, wants to feel his own chest swell and his pulse pound in response to Keith’s unraveling.

Succumbing to his own cockiness and indulging himself because why the hell not, Lance increases his tip size and the rate at which he gives them. By now he’s figured out that the larger the tip, the stronger and longer the toy vibrates. He doesn’t know how it works exactly, but he doesn’t really care as long as he can keep making Keith react like this. He’ll figure out the logistics later.

Lance watches smugly as Keith’s smirk fades, hands scrambling to grip at the pillows and sheets, his brows furrowing and mouth falling open with a lewd moan at the new intensity Lance gives him.

“Oh, yeah . . . _Fuck_!”

He’s panting harder now, legs twitching and threatening to close with each second that goes by. Keith reaches down between his legs and Lance pauses his tip giving to watch as Keith’s pale fingers frantically rub tight circles into his dick, pushing himself further towards the edge. Keith lets out a sharp yelp as he curls into himself, body tensing.

Keith is amazing to watch, his head thrown back, eyes closed and chest heaving. The muscles of his stomach contracting and relaxing as he rides out his orgasm.

Heat pools in the bottom of Lance’s stomach.

It only takes Keith a minute of humming softly and breathing deeply for him to calm down enough to open his eyes, revealing a sleepy gaze. For a devastating moment, Lance thinks Keith might be done and end the livestream, leaving him alone with his earlier predicament.

But Keith is laughing.

“Shit.” He stretches his back out and yawns. “Well that’s one.”

Lance breathes out in relief. So the show goes on.

Almost immediately people start sending tips again, Lance included and far more generous that the rest. He’s enjoying this way too much and he can’t bring himself to care about anything but Keith, how unbelievably amazing he is, and how he deserves every single tip he earns.

Lance guesses Keith is even more sensitive now than before, seeing as less than a minute later he’s moaning like he doesn’t care who hears, hips bucking into the air, ass grinding back against the bed. He rubs at and strokes himself with one hand, sucking on the fingers of his other hand and moaning around the digits. Lance wants to believe the show Keith is putting on is for him, like a thank you for all the tips and attention he’s been getting; the sultry eyes and blush across Keith’s skin is all his.

He lets his mind wander and the thought spurs him on until he’s sending tip after tip, relentless and demanding, reveling in Keith’s reaction like he’s hooked on it.

Keith is shaking, so much so that he seems unable to stop himself as he slides from his sitting position to lie down on his back. He twists around until he’s parallel to the camera. As his hand flies away from his mouth to grip his thigh, Keith screams and it goes right to Lance’s dick.

The familiar feeling of pent up energy grows deep in his belly, and he just can’t take it anymore. Using up the last of his tokens, he sends Keith a tip big enough to last for a whole five minutes. Then, finally giving himself some attention, Lance hastily shoves his free hand under his boxers, grabbing himself and hissing at how sensitive he is from going untouched for so long. He gives his dick a few slow strokes, zeroing in on the sound of Keith and the sight of his body against the mattress. Lance swipes his thumb over the head of his cock to catch some of the precum dribbling from his slit and struggles to keep his eyes open as he pumps his hand up and down his length, unwilling to miss the scene unfolding before him.

Keith looks completely and utterly wrecked as he shakes and convulses on the bed, back arching, thighs fluttering and hips jerking about. His hands are frantic, pulling at the sheets, running through his hair, twisting in the sweater he's wearing, trying to find something to ground himself to. His eyes are shut tight, trembling gasps and hoarse screams pouring from his mouth over and over again.

It’s so hot, everything is too hot and too much and just what Lance has been craving.

His stomach tenses and with a low groan he releases into his hand, cum sticking to his boxers and the hem of his shirt, but he doesn’t dare look away from his phone screen.

Keith goes silent as he approaches his second orgasm, jaw dropping and eyes still scrunched shut. Then he’s shouting, cumming again, making a mess of himself as he squirts his release onto his thighs and the sheets underneath.

Lance’s heart pounds against his chest, blood coursing through his veins carrying sparks that run from the tips of his fingers all the way down to his toes and everywhere in between, clouding his mind with nothing but bliss and Keith.

Though Lance has nothing else to give, it’s apparent the other viewers do as they continue sending tips.

Keith is whining from overstimulation, sprawled out on his back, shivering and shaking his head as if to say ‘no more, too much’. He turns his face to the camera, giving everyone a pleading, teary eyed look as he chokes back a sob and Lance feels a bit guilty for finding that so damn _hot_.

Then, with another shake of his head, Keith clenches his thighs shut and shoves a hand between them. His hand emerges holding the tiny pink toy and with a heavy sigh he shows it to the camera before dropping it and letting his body lay lax, finally free from stimulation.

Game over.

In the next minute that goes by most people leave, claiming the show’s over, but Lance stays for a reason he’d rather not think too much about.

He watches as Keith comes down from his orgasm, watches the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing begins to even out, shaky inhales and slow exhales. There’s a faint sheen of sweat on Keith’s neck and forehead, strands of hair sticking to the skin.

He looks into Keith’s lidded eyes as Keith stares back through the screen. It looks like he really tired himself out, though Lance knows he’s partially to blame for that.

He listens as Keith whispers polite ‘thank you’s and ‘bye’s to the people complimenting him in the chat and wishing him goodnight.

With a small but noticeable wince, Keith rolls over on his side and Lance feels compelled to do the same (while ignoring the mess in his pants), making it as if they were really facing each other, and there wasn’t a website in between. Then, because he can, Lance types out something in the chat for the first time that evening.

_See you next time, beautiful._

Keith’s eyes flicker up and down for a moment, reading the messages in the chat, then stopping on what Lance hopes is his.

Keith smiles sleepily and winks. "Can't wait."

And although Keith can’t see him, Lance smiles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated. 
> 
> Feel free to yell at me on [Tumblr](http://aila-anomaly.tumblr.com).


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is . . . longer than I had intended it to be . . .

There is something seriously wrong with him. He’s not obsessed or anything, that would be crazy, and weird. No, he isn’t obsessed with Keith. Lance just has a really unhealthy attraction to the incredibly sexy camboy who doesn’t even know he exists.

After that first livestream had ended and he’d been left alone with his thoughts, Lance had unwillingly popped another boner thinking about the events that had just unfolded before him, and rubbed himself raw while replaying the image of Keith writhing around on his bed and screaming through Lance’s headphones. Some few weeks later and he still can’t get over him. It probably hasn’t helped that he’s attended every single livestream Keith’s hosted since then.

He can’t help it. He’s hooked, addicted to a beautiful, untouchable boy who fills his head with fantasies and unknowingly steals the air right out of his chest. It’s gotten to a point where Lance swears he can see him in every other public place, walking amongst the crowd, but never looking at Lance and never really being there.

Like right now for instance. A lean figure stands at the very front of the line, clad in black skinny jeans, worn down vans and a large burgundy sweater that looks just like the one Keith usually wears when he’s streaming. The familiar messy head of thick raven hair is pulled back into a small, equally messy ponytail, exposing a thin, pale neck he’s often dreamed of marking up. And if Lance tries really hard, he can barely make out the sound of Keith’s voice ordering a hot coffee and a raspberry muffin.

There’s no way its him, though. All the other times turned out to be strange lookalikes or figments of his overactive imagination, so why should now be any different?

He huffs out a defeated sigh, rubbing his temples and ignoring the strange look he gets from the lady standing in front of him. This has really got to stop. His hopeful tendencies are torturing him.

But then, Lance’s whole world comes to a stop as he watches the Keith lookalike finally turn around, drink and food in hand, dark eyes scanning the surrounding tables.

Hold up. Hold the fuck up. What the fuck?

That . . . that _is_ Keith. For real this time! It can’t not be Keith.

He snaps his mouth shut upon realizing he’d let it fall open in shock and can only stare dumbly as what is definitely the real Keith walks right past him to sit down at a lone table in the corner, completely oblivious to Lance’s presence.

Oh god. The star of his wet dreams is here, in the same freaking coffee shop he goes to every single weekend. Does that mean Keith lives here? Has he been that close this whole time? How have they never crossed paths before?

Lance continues to stare unabashedly at Keith as he innocently sips at his coffee and stares out the window. The camera really doesn’t do him any justice. Looking at him now, Lance can clearly make out the sharp lines of his nose and jaw, the soft curves of his lips. The afternoon sun pouring in through the window illuminates his silhouette in a faint orange glow.

This is so not fair. No one should be allowed to be that hot.

His daydream is broken by an impatient “Walk up or get out of line” from the guy standing behind him. Lance hastily moves forward in the line, forcing himself to stay facing forwards to avoid making a fool of himself or looking like a stalker.

What should he do? Or should he even do anything? Maybe he should just pretend he didn’t see Keith at all. But he really doesn’t want to. What Lance does want to do right now is march up to Keith and seduce the living hell out of him to try and pay him back for all the times he made it hard for Lance to breathe. Would Keith even find him attractive if he tried?

When it’s Lance’s turn to order, he gets a simple iced tea, all the while internally debating whether or not he should stick around and possibly initiate some kind of interaction with Keith, or make a break for it before he makes a fool of himself. His feet seem to not care about the potential consequences of the first option as he finds himself being led to a table not too far from where Keith sits, nibbling at his muffin and staring out the window.

Lance takes his seat feeling stiff and nervous, like he knows he’s doing something wrong but continues to do it anyways. He tries to be nonchalant about stealing glances at Keith, although it isn’t necessary since Keith still doesn’t know that Lance is there, or that he’s secretly fawning over him, or even that he jerks off to him twice a week.

Lance sips at his iced coffee feeling awkward and guilty, and starts to second guess himself. But he’s already here, mere tables away from Keith, facing what’s probably a once in a lifetime opportunity, if you could call it that. It’s not every day you get to meet your favorite pornstar, aka the person you’ve been hopelessly crushing on. And that’s just it. Lance is convinced that whatever he’s feeling for Keith is more than a lustful craze. It’s this inexplicable desire to get to know who this person is, to hear him talk about himself rather than to a camera and an audience that’s only interested in him for their own pleasure.

Lance sighs quietly and chews on his straw. What to do, what to do?

He continues chancing a glance at Keith every minute or so, trying to etch the details of his features into his memory and simultaneously work up the courage to go talk to him. Keith finishes his muffin and tosses the wrapper into a nearby trashcan, returning to his seat to focus on his steaming beverage. Lance stirs the melting ice in his own drink and stares at the tiny designs in the table he’s at. What would he even say to him?

When Lance looks up again, his heart just about falls into his stomach. Keith is staring right at him, arms crossed on the table, a knowing smirk on his face.

Shit. He’s been caught. But in his sudden state of panic, Lance doesn’t look away. He holds Keith’s gaze, unsure of what to do. He swallows around the lump in his throat. When did that get there? Is he sweating? Did he put deodorant on this morning? Why is Keith looking at him like that?

Keith beckons to Lance with his finger, and Lance, still in disbelief that Keith is looking at him, glances slowly from side to side, unable to find anyone else in his general vicinity that Keith could be gesturing to. So he grabs his drink, stands up on weak knees and gathers whatever ounce of confidence he can as he strides over to Keith’s table. He stops an arms distance away and stares down at Keith nervously. Keith waves a hand at the empty chair on the other side of the small table, and Lance takes that as his cue to sit down. He tries to keep his movements casual and evenly paced, aware of how Keith’s eyes follow him as he sits and places his drink on the table. This is what he wanted, right? To come over here and talk to Keith? So why does he feel like running away?

“Is there something you wanted to ask me?” Keith leans back in his chair and tilts his head to the side in a way that’s probably meant to be intimidating but is unfortunately too cute.

Being this close to him, Lance is hyperaware of everything, which is both very good and very bad. Underneath the aroma of coffee beans and baked goods, he can smell the warm, spicy scent of whatever cologne or body spray Keith is wearing. He smells amazing.

Keith raises a thick eyebrow and purses his lips, still waiting for an answer. Lance clears his throat.

“Uh, no. No, you just . . . caught my eye.”

“Hmm.” Keith picks up his drink and his dark eyes gaze at Lance over the rim of the white mug, studying him. After a long sip Keith sets the mug down, but doesn’t break eye contact.

Are his irises purple? Or, really dark blue? Brown maybe? He could never really see them until now. Lance tries to focus on that rather than the way Keith’s intense stare makes him feel exposed.

He wipes his palms on his jeans, trying to keep himself from sweating any more than he already is. His heart is racing, too fast and too loud.

When Keith finally breaks the intense eye contact for something a little more friendly, Lance is relieved to say the least. The kind smile Keith gives him restores his usual air of confidence and makes him feel as though everything is going to work out just fine. Lance smiles back easily, all his worries gone in an instant. What was he so worried about before? He’s totally got this.

Keith sticks his hand out as if waiting for Lance to take it, so he does. His hand is smaller, and warm against Lance’s cold one. His skin breaks out in goosebumps from the skin on skin contact he’s been fantasizing about for weeks.

“My name’s Keith.”

“I know. The name’s Lance,” he says trying to be as suave as he possibly can. But his sureness and poise wavers when he sees the confused and cautious look on Keith’s face. Then he realizes _exactly_ what he just said.

“You . . . know?” Keith pulls his hand away and leans back, smile gone and replaced with a slight frown.

Way to go Lance. Real charming. Now you look like a fucking creep.

“No! Well – I mean, yes? I just – I wasn’t – ugh.” He covers his face with his hands, peaking between his fingers to look at Keith, who gazes back in confused amusement but remains quiet, giving Lance the chance to explain himself.

What is he supposed to say? ‘Oh yeah I watch your livestreams and I’ve been masturbating to your ridiculously gorgeous body for the past month’. Dammit. It was going so well too. Should he just come out and say it? No, Keith might get offended as he probably enjoys his privacy and wouldn’t appreciate some random guy coming up to him and telling him that he watches him get off. Keith may look small but Lance doesn’t doubt he could beat the shit out of him if he wanted to.

Then again, that’s worst-case scenario. There are a hundred different ways he could react to Lance telling him that. Who knows, maybe something good will come of it. Maybe he should try, you know, YOLO and all that. Lance drags his hands down his face, mentally preparing himself for his confession. Here goes nothing.

“I, uh”, Lance leans forward slowly and lowers his voice, “I watch your livestreams.”

Keith’s shoulders tense instantly, eyes wide, and Lance notes the pink tinting his cheeks that wasn’t there before. “Oh.”

“Yeah . . .” Feeling his own cheeks and neck burn with embarrassment, Lance ducks his head and stares at the edge of the table, ready to run for it and get out of there as soon as Keith tells him to.

Keith clears his throat. Here it comes.

“How long have you, um, you know . . .”

Lance blinks.

Well at least he doesn’t sound mad. He relaxes a little and looks back up at Keith to answer.

“About a month.”

Keith is quiet for a bit, as if contemplating how to handle the situation. Lance can’t imagine what he would do if he was in Keith’s shoes.

“You’re not stalking me, are you?”

“No! God, no. Meeting you here was a complete coincidence. Trust me, I was ready to book it when I saw you. I just . . . really wanted to meet you.”

Keith looks relieved himself, amused and maybe even a little understanding at Lance’s confession.

“Well, I’m kinda glad you didn’t ‘book it’.”

“Really?” Lance asks incredulously, sitting up straight. “Why?”

Keith brings a hand up to cover his sheepish smile. “I’ve never met a fan before.”

“So you’re not – I mean, I’m not making you uncomfortable or anything? I wasn’t exactly graceful trying to introduce myself.”

“Nah. You’re okay.” Keith’s eyes rake over his body, taking their time, making Lance feel way too exposed again and causing his palms to grow sweaty once more. “Actually,” Keith’s demeanor does a complete one-eighty, expression morphing into something Lance is all too familiar with from the time he’s spent watching Keith through his phone’s screen. “You’re more than okay.”

Um. What.

Keith tilts his head and pins Lance in his seat with the suggestive gleam in his eyes. “Would you like to watch?”

“Watch what?”

“Me.”

“I – I thought that’s what I’ve been –”

“I mean,” Keith leans over the tiny table to enter his personal space and Lance swallows hard at his proximity. “Without the camera in between.”

“. . . oh . . .”

Oh boy.

 

Lance couldn’t recall what had happened after that, or how exactly he came to be standing in the middle of Keith’s apartment. But here he is, feeling more awkward than ever with only a vague idea as to what Keith had in mind when he invited him to ‘watch’.

He was weak, okay? It didn’t take much convincing to get him to agree with whatever Keith had asked of him. He'd said Lance could watch, but, what did he mean by that? Watch him do what he usually does when he cams? Oh god, what if Keith asks him to join him while he’s live? Suddenly the weight of what they may or may not do in the next hour or so comes crashing down. Why the heck did Keith even invite him here?

“So . . .,” he rubs the back of his neck and glances around the living room, too excited and nervous to focus on anything except Keith, who’s causally slipping his shoes off and tapping at his phone. “What exactly do you plan on doing with me?”

Keith pauses whatever it is he’s doing to look up at Lance.

“You said you wanted to watch, right? You don’t have to if you’d rather go –”

“No! I am absolutely stoked to be here right now, believe me. I’m just a little confused as to why you would allow me, some random guy you met in a coffee shop, to come over to your house and watch you jack off. For free.”

Keith shrugs, turning his attention back to his phone.

“I haven’t had a good hookup in a while and you look like something special.”

Something special?

“You can watch while I’m streaming and we can play after I’m done. But right now I have to go get ready. You can just wait here and turn on the TV or whatever. I shouldn’t be too long.” Then Keith walks out the room and down the tiny hall to what’s probably the bathroom, leaving Lance all alone.

Keith must either be too trusting for his own good, or really confident in Lance’s character to have left him by himself, unsupervised.

He takes a deep breath, then expels the air from his chest and runs his hands through his hair. He’s really here, he’s really doing this. For some reason that fact hasn’t sunken in yet.

After slipping out of his shoes, Lance shucks off his jacket, lays it on an arm of the sofa and sinks into the cushions. Then stands right back up because nope, he definitely doesn’t want to watch TV. Not when he has the opportunity to explore Keith’s living room and make the most of his being there. He wants to know everything he can, satisfy his curiosity by soaking up all the little details he can find. Without being creepy, of course.

Aside from the sofa, there’s a worn down, wooden coffee table, a TV, bookshelf, a half dead potted plant on top of the bookshelf, and a few posters here and there on the surrounding walls. He walks over to the bookshelf and runs his fingers along the spines of the books stacked on the first shelf, skimming over the titles with growing interest.

All the books are about space. Like, outer space. There are books on star charts and constellations, galaxies, freaking _astrophysics_. Something in Lance’s chest swells with adoration and he huffs out a little laugh. This is so cool, Keith is really something. The farther down the bookshelf he goes, the more interesting it gets. There are books about black holes, dark matter, alien life, and various conspiracy theories.

Smiling like a kid in a candy store, Lance moves on to admire the posters clinging to the walls. There’s one of Neil deGrasse Tyson, of the solar system that makes a point to include Pluto and the other dwarf planets, and another one of the milky way galaxy that says ‘you are here’ with an arrow pointing to a spot in the swirl of stars and space dust.

Lance is way too happy right now, but he loves it. He feels like he’s gotten his hands on something very personal, like he’s touched a part of Keith no physical interaction could possibly compare to. And it makes his heart soar.

Then, very suddenly, Keith’s voice rings out from somewhere down the hall, popping Lance’s bubble of awe and adoration and causing him to jump a good three feet in the air.

“I’ll be done in like, five more minutes!”

Lance takes a deep breath when he lands back on the ground. Right. He didn’t come here for that, he came for the sex. So Lance sits himself down on the couch and refuses to look at anything other than the ceiling until a few agonizingly long minutes later when Keith’s head peeks out from the doorway of the hall.

His hair is damp in some places and his cheeks look flushed, maybe from the heat of the shower. Keith smiles at him and curls his index finger in a come-hither motion before turning away and heading back down the hall. Lance does his best to calm the butterflies in his stomach and empty his mind, but as he rounds the corner, his jaw literally drops. In the short time he’s spent in Keith’s presence, he’s been met with one surprise after the other. But this is by far the best one yet.

Keith’s sleeveless shirt is a flattering shade of light blue, fitting tight enough to show off the outline of his figure, yet loose enough to leave a little to the imagination and barely long enough to cover his black boyshorts. And his legs. Dark red socks stretch over his toned legs, stopping midthigh and drawing Lance’s gaze toward the soft roundness of his ass. When Keith glances over his shoulder to make sure he’s being followed, Lance notices the faint smudge of eyeliner along his upper and lower eyelids that does absolutely everything to accentuate his eye color (though Lance still can’t figure out exactly what it is). And once he’s actually inside the bedroom, he’s engulfed in that warm scent he can only describe as Keith. Fairy lights strung above the bed illuminate the room in a soft, pale light and he’s pretty sure Keith is glowing.

Lance is a dead man. He is so dead. They haven’t even done anything yet but he’s sure Keith is going to kill him. His heart is going to explode, his mind will turn to mush, and he’ll be thanking Keith until he can’t breathe anymore. Fuck.

“You can sit there.” Keith gestures to a chair set in the corner of the room, and Lance almost didn’t catch the movement, having been so entranced by the way Keith’s backside moves when he walks. But Lance pulls himself together enough to tear his eyes away, thank Keith and take a seat, repositioning the chair to better face the bed so he can watch as Keith straightens the sheets and fluffs the pillows.

He can’t tell if Keith is bending over like that on purpose, or if the arch of his back and the stretch of his legs is unconscious. Either way, it does nothing to ease the strain in Lance’s pants. Not that he’s complaining.

Keith walks over to a dresser on the other side of the room, grabbing the laptop and webcam that had been sitting on top and placing them on his bed to set them up. Lance realizes he’s basically getting a behind the scenes look at how Keith does what he does. And Keith is so calm about it all, almost as if Lance wasn’t even there. It makes him wonder if Keith has done this kind of thing before. He did mention that he hadn’t hooked up with someone in a while.

Whatever. He’s here with him now and that’s all that matters.

Lance watches Keith rummage through his dresser drawers and tries not to choke on his sharp inhale when Keith casually pulls out a vibrator and a thick, black dildo. He throws the stuff on the bed then climbs onto it, situates himself and turns to Lance with a smile.

“Enjoy the show.”

Holy fuck it’s happening. The lights are dim, the camera is streaming, Keith is in front of him looking as beautiful as ever and Lance really needs to remember how to breathe.

Not much happens for the first minute or two as Keith waits for his viewers to arrive. He’s smiling at the camera, sitting with his legs folded under him angled slightly to the side and looking incredibly cute as he greets people with small “hi’s” and tiny waves. He takes one quick look at Lance then spreads his legs a little to slip his hand under his shirt and down towards his underwear. Lance can see the outlines of Keith’s fingers moving under the thin, tight fabric. He bites down on his lip playfully and chances another glance at Lance before looking back to his audience.

“I bought a new toy,” Keith says to the camera. He removes his hand from his underwear and reaches behind the laptop to grab the dildo he’d placed there earlier. He holds it in his smallish hands for the camera to see. “Thought I’d try it out for you.” He brings the dildo up to his lips and something primal sparks in Lance chest at the sight of Keith licking up and around the toy before pushing it into his mouth.

He wants that to be him. Fuck he wants it so bad he has to grip the sides of his chair to keep himself from interrupting Keith and possibly ruining any chance he has with him. He closes his eyes, swallows his urges and breathes. He needs to keep himself together and keep it in his pants just long enough for Keith to finish his stream.

After regaining a little composure Lance looks back at Keith to find him laying on his back and tugging his underwear down. Then he’s sitting up on his knees and reaching between his legs to center the tip of the dildo under himself. He grips the base and lowers himself onto it, gyrating his hips as he goes down. Keith’s eyes flutter shut and he moans into the otherwise quiet bedroom, planting his free hand in front of his bent, spread legs to steady himself as he bottoms out. He looks at his computer screen through lidded eyes and starts to move, pushing himself up and down in a steady rhythm.

Keith huffs out a quiet little laugh, murmuring something about ". . . fills me up . . . so good. . ." as he reaches for the vibrator. It hums to life with the click of a switch and Keith presses it against his dick, gasping at the contact and groaning softly, mouth falling open to let out soft panting. Then Keith picks up the pace, rising up on his knees and quickly dropping back down in a way that has him lightly bouncing on the mattress. After a while, he grinds down harder and faster, rocking his hips and cursing under his breath. Keith continues like that until he’s chanting “yes, yes, yes” over and over again, voice rising in pitch as he fucks himself onto the toy. His words become unintelligible and his movements become uneven and jerky as he nears his orgasm.

Lance fidgets in his chair, the suspense almost as unbearable as the hard on he’s been sporting for far too long.

Keith’s eyes scrunch shut and he shouts something that fades into a moan as he comes. He sinks down onto the dildo fully and frantically rubs the vibrator over himself before removing it and clenching his thighs shut. Keith’s red socks become wet with the evidence of his release but he looks so blissed out and happy that it seems like such a minor detail. Keith sits for a few quiet moments, softly rocking his hips back and forth and chewing on his bottom lip as he comes down from his orgasm. Eventually he rises up on his knees to slide the dildo out, turns off the vibrator, and unceremoniously pushes the two items over the side of the bed. He moves back in front of the camera and tucks his bangs behind his ear.

“I’m gonna have to cut our time short tonight. But I promise I’ll make it up to you all next time.” He blows a kiss to the camera and waves, eyes trained on the screen as he gives out a few more “thank you’s”. With one final goodbye, Keith shuts off his webcam, closes his laptop, and places them on his small bedside table. Keith’s smile fades as he falls back against his pillows with a huff and rubs at his eyes with his knuckles. He looks, disappointed.

Lance clears his throat, unsure of what to say until he opens his mouth.

“You okay?”

Keith finally looks over at Lance and sighs half-heartedly.

“Yeah. This stream just wasn’t as lucrative as some of my more recent ones.”

In that moment Lance realizes that Keith still has no idea that he’s been the one tipping him like crazy these past few weeks. And that, paired with the knowledge that Keith hadn’t made as many tips simply because Lance was here instead, makes him feel like one smooth motherfucker.

“Oh. That’s my bad, I guess.” Lance grins.

Keith’s eyebrows furrow in confusion (and maybe slight annoyance at Lance’s cockiness), then raise in realization as he puts the pieces together and a smile creeps across his face.

“So you’re my generous tipper.” Keith chuckles quietly and slides further down the bed to make himself comfortable. “Even better.” He beckons Lance over to where he’s sprawled out on the bed. “I’ll be sure to make this worth your while.”

Lance tries not to run. His legs feel weak and his face is too hot and when he climbs onto the bed, Keith reaches out to grab Lance’s shirt and drag him up to his lips in one smooth motion.

It’s like kissing fire, or something just as metaphorically beautiful. Keith’s mouth is hot and soft and moves against Lance’s in a strong and sure way that leaves no room for uncertainty. His chest swells with a strange sense of longing and Lance decides he wants – no, _needs_ to drag this out as long as he can.

A wonderful idea pops into his head, born from one of his many Keith related fantasies. Lance pulls away and leans back, kneeling on the mattress over Keith’s legs and balancing on the balls of his feet, to take in the high definition display of Keith splayed out before him. He rakes his eyes down his body and takes note of Keith’s ruined thigh-highs. That tight damp fabric can’t be comfortable, and Lance wants to have access to as much bare skin as he can.

Keith looks a little surprised and confused but doesn’t make any move to stop Lance as he peels the socks off and tosses them to the side. He takes his time rubbing his hands up Keith’s slim legs, massaging his ankles, calves, thighs, hips and enjoying how Keith eventually relaxes under his touch, a content sigh escaping his lips through a small smile. Lance smiles back.

He wouldn’t mind staying just like this. It feels so surreal. He’s here, with Keith, touching Keith, getting to know him one way or another and he feels so blessed.

Lance lets Keith pulls him down into another kiss, just as hungry as the last, and he ruts against the thigh Lance had conveniently placed between his legs. He can feel Keith’s heat through his jeans, soaking through the fabric, so he breaks away from Keith’s mouth in favor of going back to what he was doing. His fingers tuck wild strands of hair behind Keith’s flushed ears as he leaves wet, opened mouth kisses along Keith’s sweaty neck. Keith rests his hands on Lance’s back and bunches the fabric of his shirt in his fists as Lance noses his way down Keith’s chest, breathing out hot puffs of air over his sternum, pushing his shirt further up with his nose and following the faint line that leads down to his navel. He dips his tongue into Keith’s bellybutton because he can and smiles at the gasp Keith lets out.

“Fuck, Lance . . . hurry up.”

His heart stops and reboots itself. It’s the first time he’s heard his name out of Keith’s mouth and it sounds perfect, better than anything his mind could have conjured up. And with Keith pushing his hips up and squeezing Lance’s waist with his surprisingly strong thighs, Lance can only oblige to his command, sliding low enough so his face is level with Keith’s exposed heat. He guides Keith’s legs to rest over his shoulders and slides his hands down Keith’s thighs to rest them on his hips. He kisses along the soft skin of Keith’s inner thighs, alternating between each one, licking at the residual stickiness and getting closer to where he knows Keith wants his mouth the most.

It isn’t until Keith whines and reaches down to grip his wrists that Lance surges forward and flattens his tongue along Keith’s entrance, parting his folds from bottom to top and drawing a long mewl from the beautiful boy in his hands. God he’s so fucking gorgeous. Lance goes to work diligently licking and sucking along Keith’s sensitive heat. He delves his tongue into Keith’s hole and licks along his smooth inner walls, tasting him, breathing him in. Keith’s hands move to Lance’s head and his fingers run through his hair, tightening in the locks but still giving Lance the freedom to move.

Lance looks up expecting to see dark eyes staring back, but Keith’s head is limp against the pillows, eyes closed, and if Lance didn’t know any better he might think Keith looks peaceful. He goes back to focusing on the task at hand, lapping at Keith’s entrance and sucking on his dick in a way that has Keith’s breath picking up in pace. He’s breathing fast, panting that turns into moans and groans, little jerks and rolls of his hips when Lance presses down or sucks hard.

He slides a finger into Keith, curling it to look for the small textured part of Keith’s walls he hopes will push him over the edge. When he finds it, Keith tenses and gasps out, “Shit!” And before Lance can celebrate his find he’s being pushed away by the tight grip in his hair. He looks up at Keith, confused, and Keith looks back through heavy, clouded eyes.

Did he do something wrong? He swipes the back of his hand across his mouth and moves to verbalize his question but the hands still in his hair are pulling him back up to Keith’s face. Keith presses a quick kiss to his mouth then pulls back just enough to whisper, “Not yet. Wanna come on your dick,” and Lance groans with a full-body shudder, suddenly very aware of how hard and not naked he is.

He makes quick work of his clothes, tugging them off and tossing them in no particular direction before settling back between Keith’s parted legs. He leans over, his forearms planted on either side of Keith’s head for balance as he swoops down to capture his mouth in another addictive kiss. But he’s stopped by a finger against his lips as Keith breathes out, “Condom,” into the air between their faces.

Oh shit. He didn’t even think about that.

Before Lance can panic, Keith is pushing at his chest, urging him to move so he can roll over and reach for the bedside table. Keith yanks open the single drawer to reveal among other things, a box of condoms and a few bottles of different lubes. Lance watches with relief as Keith plucks one from the box, shuts the drawer and places the tiny package in his hand.

Yup, Keith has definitely done this before. Lance tries not to let that thought get to him. Keith isn’t his, he can do whatever or whoever he wants. He’s lucky to even be here. Keeping that in mind, Lance tears open the packet, discards the wrapper and rolls the condom on. They’re gonna have sex, it’s gonna be great, and he’s not going to worry about what happened in the past or what won’t happen in the future. Lance is going to take what he has now and cherish the fuck out of it.

He moves to line himself up with Keith’s entrance but before he can, Keith pushes hard on his shoulders and throws his leg over Lance’s hip to roll them over. Lance lands on his back with a small “oof” and blinks up at a very smug Keith as he takes Lance in his hand and slowly starts to lower himself onto his dick.

“Oh . . .Keith . . .” Lance’s hands instinctively come up to Keith’s waist, clinging to him as he sinks down until he’s straddling Lance’s hips. Keith is so tight, his walls throbbing around Lance’s cock and it’s a heavenly sensation he could bask in forever. But he doesn’t have forever, just tonight. So he sits up and cradles Keith against his chest as he rolls them back over without breaking their connection, smiling when he sees Keith’s surprised expression.

Then he starts to move, a slow drag out and smooth push in that has them both groaning. Lance leans down to kiss Keith again, dragging out the messy push and pull of their lips until Keith breaks it to catch his breath. He lets outs a soft “hah" with each gentle thrust as Lance rocks them into the bed, their bodies a tangle of sweaty limbs and roaming hands. Too soon they reach a point where it’s not enough.

Keith tries to roll his hips up to meet Lance halfway, emitting an impatient whine that Lance is empathetic towards. He loops an arm around Lance’s neck and pulls him down to breathe a commanding “harder” into his ear.

Lance indulges him, of course. He pulls away from Keith’s hold and hooks his arms under Keith’s legs, pushing them up, spreading him open further and allowing him to push in deeper.

“Yes, fuck . . . fuck me,” Keith moans and slides his hands down Lance’s back to grab his ass and push his hips down. “ _Lance_.”

All his reserve vanishes, and Lance lets himself do what he’s been desperate to do since he first laid eyes on Keith.

“Put your legs around my waist.”

When Keith eagerly complies, Lance places his hands just under Keith’s shoulders, his arms strong pillars that ground him to the bed as he begins to snap his hips forward. Keith’s chest heaves at the new pace and he lets out a long, broken moan until Lance muffles it with his mouth. He presses his lips against Keith’s and licks hungrily into his mouth, breathing in all the little noises he fucks out of him. Keith’s hands latch onto Lance’s upper arms, fingers digging into his biceps as he tries to hold on. Lance drives his hips down as fast and as hard as he can, pushes Keith further into the bed because a selfish part of him wants Keith to remember this, remember how good Lance made him feel.

Keith throws his head back against the pillows with a strangled gasp. Lance lunges forward and presses his mouth to the exposed length of his neck, licking the sweaty skin and scraping his teeth over it before gently nipping at Keith’s collar bone and kissing the reddened marks.

The smack, smack, smack of skin on skin is so lewd and not quite loud enough to drown out all the noise Keith is making but Lance soaks it all in, loosing himself to the rhythm, trying to hold out for as long as he can because he wants Keith to come first, wants to fuck him through his orgasm until he’s putty in Lance’s hands.

He’s brought back to reality by the sharp sting of Keith’s fingernails scraping harsh lines into his shoulders and arms. The muscles of his back are burning and the tightness in his gut is almost too much to bear but he doesn’t waver, not when Keith is this close. He can feel it – fuck, he can see it in the way Keith’s eyes roll back and his eyelids flutter and the mouth that has been pouring out all kinds of sounds is now half open in a silent scream. Keith reaches down between their bodies and rubs himself until he comes with a low, shaky moan, back arching as his whole body tenses before letting go completely.

Lance buries his face in the crook of Keith’s neck, snakes his arms under Keith’s limp body and holds him close as he tightens and relaxes around Lance in a hypnotic rhythm that finally pushes him over the edge into his own release. Lance slows the jerky movements of his hips as he comes into the condom and moans into Keith’s shoulder.

When he’s finished and all that’s left is the post-sex haze and the sound of their breathing, Lance untangles himself from Keith and transfers some of his weight onto his elbows so he’s not squishing him. Keith blinks his eyes open and looks up at Lance with a lazy smile, smoothing his palms over the welts he left on his arms.

In that moment Lance decides Keith’s eyes are violet. Violet eyes as brilliant as any of the nebulae in his books and it’s so out of this world gorgeous, and _holy fuck_ he shouldn’t be having these thoughts when he’s just had what’s probably going to be summed up to a meaningless one-night stand.

Lance pulls out, rolls off Keith and flops onto his back, exhausted and exhilarated, mind moving at a million miles a minute. In a moment of rational thinking, he strips the condom off, ties it off and tosses it into the conveniently placed waste bin he’d noticed by the nightstand. Lance lays back down with a tired huff and out the corner of his eye sees Keith curl into himself before stretching out and tucking his hands behind his head. He sighs, sounding content and only slightly out of breath.

“That was great.”

Lance hums in agreement and smiles, finally coming down from the rush and returning to his usual playful self.

“Better than a vibrator?”

“Mmm, no.”

Lance pouts in mock disappointment and Keith laughs at his reaction then rolls over on his stomach and props himself up on his forearms to look down at Lance with a smile in his eyes.

“But I’ll admit that’s the best sex I’ve had in a while.”

Lance beams back at him, feeling proud of himself for having pleased Keith. That’s all he really wanted deep down. Keith’s admission leaves him with a deeper sense of satisfaction.

“Glad I could be of service.”

“Yeah. I’m sure it’ll be even better next time.” The look Keith gives him is absolutely devious.

Lance goes to speak but the words get caught in his throat and it comes out as more of an embarrassing squeak. He clears his throat and tries again.

“Next time?”

“Mhm.” Keith rests his head in his hand and uses the other one to brush away the hair sticking to Lance’s forehead. He trails his index finger down the side of Lance’s face and along his jaw, stopping under his chin and tilting his face up until their lips are nearly touching.

Lance swallows hard, embarrassed by just how much control Keith has over him, but not the least bit ashamed of how much he likes it.

“Better keep up, loverboy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never know how to end a chapter smh. 
> 
> Comments are appreciated.
> 
> Yell at me on Tumblr @[aila-anomaly](http://aila-anomaly.tumblr.com).


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